


Questions For a Sinner Like Me

by allwedidwaskiss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, Everyone is BAMF, F/M, Grumpy Derek, Isaac is too good for this world too pure, Lydia is also BAMF, M/M, Scott is a puppy (literally and figuratively), Stiles is a BAMF, Stiles is a Supernatural Encyclopedia, THIS IS NOT ANYTHING RESEMBLING CANON, aha time to add Werewolf stuff, alternative universe, better safe than, check the A/N for the deets, haha so far let's see, just so everyone is aware, lots of adhock folklore flying around, mesmerized at first meeting, not that canon resembles canon as i understand it, sorry i left that bit off, there's going to be some D/s subtones here, this new chapter perhaps needs that tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:57:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7196723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwedidwaskiss/pseuds/allwedidwaskiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years after the Reveal and his mother’s death, Stiles Stilinski is doing okay.  </p>
<p>Sure, monsters are real and that’s changed his life in unimaginable ways; having to move away from his childhood home, the loss of his best friend and the constant threat of danger and Supes moving in on their settlement.  Despite all that, he’s hit a stride, has become a forerunner on Supe knowledge and an efficient Raider for the settlement. </p>
<p>Until one night his world is turned upside down again when he meets a mesmerizing Wolfe with winter blue eyes and gets back someone he thought he’d never see again.  Things just get stranger from there, but Stiles is nothing if he’s not adaptable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Burning Bridges Light My Way

**Author's Note:**

> ok, so haha. i left the TW fandom around the time that i abandoned this monstrosity. it seems i jumped ship around late 2013. i don't remember what killed it for me, so please don't bring that here. this has little to do with canon besides the characters and werewolves so don't sweat it. 
> 
> THE ENDGAME HERE IS NOT STEREK.  
> there are literally 30 million sterek fics, please go to the tag if that's what you want.
> 
> this guy is (mostly) done. I have 9k. it's gonna be a short and sweet and i don't anticipate this should climb more than 20k. 
> 
> THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS A WIP.  
> yeah, i have never done that before. but here we go, gotta clear the computer somehow. i will update every week. trust me, the first month is already taken care of. EDIT: actually, i realized i have to post more at once unless this is to make abso-NO-sense so we will see how often those updates are, huh? tralala *skips away laughing maniacally*
> 
> **NOT BETA'D. HMU if interested!!!** also, please excuse the writing break. my style has evolved and changed since 2013, as we all know how RL does. we'll see what happens.
> 
> quick chronology note: 
> 
> 1995 - The Reveal happens (Stiles is 10)  
> 2001 - Stiles is 16 (i misread my handwriting; i was wondering why that didn't look quite right. i just opened up my physical notes again rn. so sorry, everyone.)  
> 2013 - Present Day (because I am not going to go back date hunting just to bring this to the present-present day)
> 
> work title from Florence + The Machine

It’s difficult to focus on the horizon in the late day glare of a prematurely setting sun. Makes it more difficult than it should be to distinguish the shapes of the trees, movement caused by the lazy breeze.

Stiles shifts his hips where he’s leaning against Betsy’s driver side door, hand unconsciously hovering over the Winchester loaded with Wolfsbane and mistletoe bullets on his hip.

Wolfsbane and mistletoe will deal with your garden variety Supes; werewolves, most Eastern monsters, lesser shifters. Just in case of Demon attacks, a back up clip full to the brim with sea salt has become standard issue for all ops. However if any Fae show up, they would be royally screwed, no pun intended.

Stiles shifts again, the slowly sinking sun washes everything he looks at out in a deep, blood red color.  He clears his throat nervously.

“Hey, Sparks.”

He’s met with an irritated grunt of acknowledgment that causes a small grin to break out on his face, despite his increasing worry about their engine troubles so far out in No-Man’s. 

The lighting does Lydia’s hair few favors. It looks like she has a flowing mane of flames. 

If Stiles didn’t know any better, he’d think she looked like a Brimstone Witch, all fire and destruction packaged into an innocuously delicate package. He’s never had the pleasure to meet one himself, few that have live to tell the tales, but those that make it back have cemented his opinion that Lydia might fit right in to a Fire coven.

“Pain of death, Stiles. I’ve reassurances from several parties that that nickname will die with you.”

See?

Lydia’s glare holds less heat than it usually would, her lips pursed in worry as she leans to peer around Betsy’s hood. 

“Lighten up, Martin.” Lydia’s only response is to give him a two-finger salute and duck back around the car’s hood. 

“Speaking of lighting, and the fact that we’re running out of it sometime in the next two hours, I should think… How’s it lookin’, Doc?”

Stiles moves from his post and rounds the front fender of the car to see Lydia frowning at it fiercely in a very non-reassuring manner.

“Unless you have a spare router coil in your _still_ ridiculous jacket, then we are, in clinical terms, caught outside after dark during The Hunt.”

“Alright. Plan X.” Stiles tries to keep the nerves from his voice as he holsters his Winchester. 

“Sun’s setting soon. We have two hours to make this clearing as safe as it can be.” Stiles turns on his heel and strides towards the rear driver’s side door.

“I’ve got enough ammo here to hold off an army. What about the cloaking? Is that still up?”

Lydia’s shoulders straighten immediately. She may be a snark monster, but she’s a good soldier, more than that even. She’s exceedingly smart and competent and not afraid to let everyone know.

“Cloaking’s down.” It’s said with a frown that quickly morphs into an ‘aha!’ face.

“But electrical equipment’s all intact!” Stiles’ smile crawls off his face at her next words though. “Surprising, considering how old this junk heap is. We can comm in coordinates, fortify and await retrieval." 

“Don’t fret, Betsy. She doesn’t mean that.” He pats the door after he’s closed it. Opening the duffle, he pulls out various bottles and pouches.

“Alright, sounds good, Lydia. Get on the comms. I’ll get warding.”


	2. Static Is The Only Sound

Two hours seems like twenty minutes when it’s set to the pace of a quickly disappearing sun. Stiles has a Mountain Ash ring set out half way through the clearing, glad all at once that they’re given the gift of visibility.

Inside the Mountain Ash is a thin line of all the table salt they had collected on their run (needs must) and another, even thinner ring, of Goober Dust.

Goober Dust is a Supe Hail Mary. Emergencies only and Stiles has made the executive decision as the highest ranking officer that this is an emergency.

Not that it’ll be much help against most of what they can run into once the sun sets.

There hadn’t been much that the Sheriff could do for them at least three hours away, besides send more people out to get caught after Dark.

Stiles suppresses a shiver, grateful that he’d worn his favorite jacket that Lydia seems to have a personal vendetta against. 

It’s not like he’s never been out after Dark before. He has, before, and a few times after. But never stranded miles from the safety of a fortified gate of Mountain Ash with nothing between him and any one of the scariest Supes he can imagine but a thin line on the ground.

His heart is thumping in his chest as he makes his way back to the darkened Jeep.

Lydia sees him coming but still jumps when he opens the door to climb up.

She looks as scared as he feels and suddenly, knowing that if he’s visibly worried, it’ll only make this worse for her makes him feel like he can actually manage this with some dignity.

“Looks good, solid two inches, no uneven ground. It’ll definitely hold til morning if we keep an eye out. I’ll take first watch.”

Lydia’s eyes are a bit too wide, Stiles can see way too much white around them but her voice doesn’t waver.

“Fair enough, it’s not like any amount of beauty sleep will help you anyway.”

Stiles grimaces at her but most of the sting is taken away when she reaches out quickly to squeeze Stiles’ hand.

He squeezes back briefly and then as quickly as she advanced, Lydia had retreated against the passenger door.

“Wake me first if anything happens Stiles, or I’ll have your balls.”

She doesn’t even flutter her lashes to acknowledge Stiles’ sudden snort of surprise and amusement but her mouth does quirk in the corner, cheek dimpling.

Lydia Martin, Ladies and Gentlemen.

“Noted, Captain.”

Stiles is still smirking when she actually does drift off.

It’s almost three in the morning when the wind picks up again. Stiles doesn’t notice at first, after hours of nothing happening, his body is weary from the aftermath of a major adrenaline spike. He thinks the soft whispering sound is in his head until he notices the movement of the leaves.

“Shit!” He is already half way out of the jeep before he remembers that he definitely needs to wake Lydia before he takes off, in case anything happens.

He grabs her shoulder too roughly by accident, suddenly keyed up again, his hands are shaking and he tries to steady them as Lydia jerks awake.

“Sorry! Sorry, I was kind of in a hurry. The wind’s picking up, I need to go check the lines. Stay here, keep low below the dash. If anything happens, climb under the seat and out the hatch. Take the comm with you.”

Lydia looks about as terrified as Stiles feels, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest.

He doesn’t let it stop him from grabbing Lydia’s hand and squeezing hard until she seems to focus on him.

“Lydia, it’s fine. Just the wind, I’m gonna fix the lines and I’ll be right back. Okay?”

He watches as the red head seems to visibly shake herself, eyes narrowing and shoulders squaring again. This is the Lydia that handles the difficult stuff, her war mask. They all have them. Hell, Tim at camp is freaking _six_ and has one.

Stiles moves away and down to the ground. He looks back once, nods at Lydia. She nods back and he closes the door softly but firmly behind him, waiting to see Lydia’s bright hair drop below the dash before he leaves the car.

It’s go time, Stilinski. Right hand never more than two inches from his holster as he walks the perimeter as quickly as he can, eyes constantly jumping between the tree line and the ground.

So naturally, when Lydia chooses to ninja up behind him, he almost pees his pants in terror.

He does jump about a foot, lands on what feels like his heart and let out a tiny, shrill yelp that he’s surprised he managed to hear.

“Holy shit! Lydia! Fuck!” He hisses out venomously as he clutches his chest in what may seem a dramatic gesture, but really he’s just making sure his heart didn’t actually succeed in jumping ship.

“Sorry! I got nervous waiting in the car, it was so quiet I felt like I couldn’t hear and then I thought that maybe if I hadn’t heard anything you could be dead and I missed it and then I started to freak out because I couldn’t _hear_ because it was _too quiet_.”

Lydia looks manic but manages to keep her voice at a hoarse whisper, so unlike her usual composure. She’s not touching Stiles, but she’s close to him and shifting uncomfortably like having her back exposed is making her want to press close so she doesn’t feel so small.

He understands so he doesn’t comment other to hiss at her to shush and she follows him around the rest of the circle. By the time they’ve completed it and found the wind hadn’t disrupted their precarious safety any more, Lydia was definitely more in control of herself.

And Stiles had most of his personal space bubble back again. He never minded Lydia being close. Before he, Scott and Lydia had been childhood friends for a while.

Well, he and Scott had been friends since the second grade and Lydia would sometimes sit near them at lunch and study with them. That was until fourth grade when she decided that Stiles and Scott weren’t the type of people she needed to be spending her time with.

In a way, Stiles was glad to have her back.

He’s turned looking at her, looking for the joke about her minor panic attack earlier when her face pales dramatically and she shakily nods towards the tree line.


	3. Somehow I'm Not Scared of This

Moving on the edge of the forest a man. No, not a man, at least not out here in the trees, so far from the nearest settlement. It’s a Lycan. 

“Lydia, get behind me.” He moves out an arm but she grabs him first and pulls him close, attached to his side and shaking like a leaf. If it didn’t see them before, it would definitely know they were there now; he can’t hear anything for his heartbeat thudding away in his ears and figures Lydia is the same.

He un-holsters his weapon and flexes his fingers around the grip of the gun, finger flat alongside the trigger.

And because Stiles’ life is predictable in the absolute _worst_ ways, that’s when the Lycan in the woods turns its head towards them and Stiles sees a bright flash of yellow.

Fuck a _duck_.

Everything seems to slow down for to a crawl as the Lycan charges them, so quick that Stiles barely has time to move forward, only managing two strides before there’s a bright flash of white light and the Lycan is thrown back to the ground.

Stiles aims his weapon as he draws closer, to the edge of the Goofer Dust, less than five feet from his first ever Lycan.

His gun trained directly at its heart is the first thing the Lycan sees when it straightens up and opens its eyes.

“I don’t know about you, but I learned at monster school that Lycans are the only thing that can’t travel through a ring of Mountain Ash. Now, I’ve never tried, but do you think that a Wolfsbane bullet would have a problem?”

He hears Lydia draw her own weapon and cock it behind him. His responding smile may look a little fierce and the Lycan probably thinks its meant to intimidate but it’s just ‘cause he’s kind of terrified out of his mind right now.

He’s surprised his hands and voice aren’t shaking. He stares down the barrel of the gun at what looks like a kid his age, all long limbs sprawled on the ground, staring at him with these big, _blue_ , terrified eyes.

His hand wavers a second, because Stiles just sees another teenager on the ground, not a monster. He didn’t know how very human they could seem. He really doesn’t want to shoot him.

“Get up and leave, now. Tell your pack to go. I’ve got enough furry lethal bullets here to make myself a nice winter coat collection.”

Stiles knows he’s mouthing off and that the Lycan’s pack will be fanned out around them in a circle, ready and waiting to pick them off if they bolt.

Their warded circle would hold, so long as the wind stays gone. And soon sunrise will be here along with heavily armed, dangerous reinforcements and hopefully a spare coil because he’d be loathe to leave Betsy behind.

The Lycan frantically shaking his head and starting to babble, his golden brown curls moving with his jerky head movements, brings Stiles out of his own mind.

“No! Not a Lycan, just a Wolfe! Let me in, please! I got separated- I think they’re after me!”

Behind him Stiles hears Lydia’s surprised gasp and before he knows what he’s doing, the invitation is coming out of his mouth.

It doesn’t matter anyway, a Lycan wouldn’t be able to cross even if he said the words – but a Wolfe on the other hand, could. But Wolves can still be dangerous in their own right.

“Little wolfe, little wolfe. Please won’t you come in? Just promise me you’ll eat not me and my kin.”

The Wolfe is on his feet before Stiles is done; a firm but rushed “I promise, by the shadow of the Moon,” falling from his lips a second before he jumps over the Mountain Ash in a quick flash of golden light.

He doesn’t need Lydia’s hissed and desperate, “Stiles _no_ ” to realize he’s just made a potentially very fatal error.

********1995*********

The Reveal happened when Stiles was ten. On Halloween, forever ruining it for like, everyone, ever.

It’s kind of like saying that Napoleon Bonaparte was a year old when the Boston Massacre happened. One has absolutely fuck all to do with the other, but it’s just that Stiles remembers specifically, that he was ten.

One day he’s excited to be dressing up as a goblin with Scott for Halloween and then he gets home from school and his dad sits him down to tell him that Halloween is canceled.

Before Stiles can dissolve in tears, he’s met with a serious face, that face his dad got that day that he told Stiles Mom wouldn’t be – Well, it was a serious face and Stiles had immediately felt his heart drop to somewhere around his shoes.

At first he thought it was a prank. How can you sit a fifth grader down on _Halloween_ and try to convince him that all the monsters from the movies were _real,_ had actually gotten on the TV and announced to the world that they exist? That now, everything that was impossible before is possible now! Mom could come back!

Except not, because as well as being real, apparently Supes (their word, not humanity’s), had decided that they had a vendetta against all plain old vanilla Homo Sapiens. They had been here first and they wanted it all back.

Stiles’ last Halloween is spent packing a go-bag, like dad has for work sometimes and talking about the new changes that are going to be happening. Apparently, there was a town meeting before the schools let out on how to prepare for this new revelation.

Life before seems like a really pleasant dream. A land without a curfew and mandatory weapons, fighting and warding classes on weekend mornings, before he started learning the real facts behind each of the terrifying creatures he’d once been so obsessed with, sandwiched between Pre-Algebra and English Lit.

He threw out all his fantasy novels after the first month.

He kept the comics.

Old habits die hard though, and learning about _anything_ new interests him. Before long, he was the guy you wanted in your Supe 101 study group. He knew that you could stop a Vampyre with any consecrated item. No seriously, it could be a Holy Sock and you’re good.

There was a week long fascination with the Fae until he found out what they did to virgins and it completely put him off researching anything else about them except how to kill them, because, just, _no_.

But he knew the absolute most about Greater Shifters. Specifically Lycanthropes.

The differences between Wolves and Lycans fascinated him.

The Lycans were your standard horror movie fare wolfman. Eight terrifying feet of full-bodied fur, blood, gore, dripping fangs, seven-inch claws and a particular taste for murder.

Stiles was kind of fascinated with Lycans, the harnessing of beast-like instincts that perfected the ideology of a man killer. Wolves were more ancient and terrible than the Lycans, but in different ways. 

A Lycan turns into a wolf man, no doubt about it, aforementioned terror and everything and so does a Wolfe, but they appear more human and can be reasoned with. And Wolves don’t hunt people, unless they have to defend themselves or their pack.

According to legend, and Stiles’ Supe History book from high school, Wolves, as a gift from the god Remus, can attain a real wolf form for their abstinence from human flesh. They can also be bound by their word and allowed inside Mountain Ash protections if they swear an oath.

That does little to stop them from manhandling you _outside_ of the protection and then eating your face. But it’s a nice thought, regardless.

Wolves have been known to work with, live among and even marry humans.

Enter a _lot_ of strictly illegal (but still found easily enough if you knew who and _how_ to ask) Wolfen erotica.

Yeah, not his proudest moment.

It all became normal to the point that Stiles didn’t even double take at the silver test required before entering the school. He and everyone else in school had small, gossamer scars up and down their forearms, and he supposes that he felt like it was normal because it was.

Supes were real, faeries were to avoided at _all_ fucking costs, and on Tuesdays, Stiles still swung by China Wall for take-out on his way home from practice.

It was all a bit surreal. Everyone in town knew and it was all over the national news and the talking heads were looking more and more agitated by the day.

Stiles’ dad refused to have the news on when he was at home, or the TV for that matter. The Sheriff would just sit in his recliner; two fingers of whiskey in his glass that he rested on his thigh and occasionally rotated but never drank.

Things were weird, but fine, and seemed like, really far away and wrapped in cotton.

And then when Stiles turned sixteen, Scott got Bitten.


	4. And Your Heart Sounds Like

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title taken from Your Heart Sounds Like - Fhin

***********2013**************

In a flash the Wolfe was on him. He thought about pulling the trigger but it wasn’t even a fully formed thought before the Lycanthrope was kneeling right in front of him, head tipped back to expose a criminally long neck.

Lydia’s responding panicked call of his name probably wasn’t necessary if the Wolfe was Submitting; Wolves are only known to bare their necks to Alphas, pack and potential mates and it wasn’t something they took lightly, or offered to a human stranger. Though Stiles supposes granting protection kind of makes him the Alpha in this situation, and if that’s not a super weird thought.

Besides refusing would be stupidly rude and if the Wolfe’s pack showed up and he hadn’t accepted his Submission, Stiles might have a very real, very angry Alpha to deal with.

Stiles is still wary though.

“Do I have to use my teeth?”

And Stiles is really getting tired of Lydia’s dramatic and very audible reaction noises from behind him at this point. Though scandalized is several times better than terrified.

He focuses on that instead of the thought of sinking his teeth in that pale column of flesh, biting down _just hard enough_ to draw tiny drops of blood, soothe out the pain with his tongue and roll the taste of the Wolfe’s blood in his mouth.

The Shifter snorts in surprised humor and when he levels his face to fully meet Stiles’ eyes, there’s a confused but pleased look hovering in his. Stiles is terrified for a second that _he knows._

But no, he can probably hear his heart skip and smell a twinge of interest and possibly arousal, though Stiles will deny that for as long as possible, but he can’t actually see into his head. A slow smiles stretches across those beautiful lips and his blue eyes are practically twinkling. For someone who was running for his life a minute ago, the guy’s smirk is cool and challenging at the same time.

“Only if you really want to."

Stiles opens his mouth but has forgotten all of the words.

The smirk grows as the Wolfe licks across his upper lip; never breaking their shared gaze and Stiles feels a brilliant flush flare across his face.

Finally, remembering he’s supposed to be acting Submissive, those brilliant blue eyes drop from his and the Wolfe tilts his head back again.

“Just your hand with the bite of your nails will work. But for the record,” he adds, face totally devoid of any teasing, his eyes darkening, “I wouldn’t object if you wanted to put your teeth in me.”

Stiles chokes on air and tries to pass it off as a cough. He doesn’t miss Lydia’s muffled snort.

“Right. Hold still.” Because even if a Wolfe is Submitting, it never hurts to be polite and to broadcast your intentions well before you try to move. Stiles has read all of the books, thank you very much. 

( _No,_ not _those_ books. _Stop_ it.)

Even though he’s not sure what he’s feeling right now, his heart has just decided that galloping is a good pace, regardless of what page his brain is on. 

He’s really not sure if the Wolfe is _flirting_ with him or what. Not to mention the Lycans that may or may not be chasing the guy and what they’re gonna do. Even if they have ridiculously limited options, they should still be focusing on that. Not the fact that he has to wipe his sweaty palm on his pants leg before reaching forward to grasp the Wolfe’s throat firmly.

He’s _hot_ , like burning almost, if not for the clearness of his eyes Stiles would assume he was running a fever.

He hears the swallow but is more interested in the way it felt sliding heated and hard against his palm. And long gone is that game where he doesn’t bore into Stiles with that penetrating gaze, the Wolfe’s eyes are blazing and Stiles can’t make himself look away. At all.

There’s a joke he wants to make about dogs but it’s lost when piercing blue eyes flutter closed as Stiles accidentally tightens his grip, just flexing his hand really.

The reaction pretty much shuts his mouth off and encourages his hand to close more tightly. He feels the shuddery exhale when he finally pushes his nails firmly against flesh.

The Wolfe stays perfectly still except for his jumpy breathing as Stiles tightens his hand that final inch, his nails lightly perforating the skin.

The Wolfe’s ragged gasp shoots electricity up his spine and he drops his hand like it’s been burned.

Abruptly he realizes as the same time Lydia does that the situation long ago reached inappropriate and is edging into pornographic. She clears her throat and Stiles can feel his ears getting so hot he thinks they might fall _off_.

Another grossly attractive grin spreads over the Wolfe’s face at the sound of Stiles stuttering heart. 

“Tease~,” is drawled out lowly and Stiles feels his face flush hot but still manages to quip back. 

“How easy do you think I am?” Despite his embarrassment, Stiles manages to stick his hand out to help the Wolfe up.

“Isaac.” and again, it’s hardy fair, his stupid beautiful face, all angles and sweeping lines and, Jesus _fuck,_ those eyes.

“Stiles.” he coughs out, snatching his hand back again when he realizes he’s still holding the Shifter’s awkwardly.

He needs to stop perving on the fucking Wolfe because he can hear and smell it. But seriously, Stiles only has so much self-control.

Thankfully Lydia is unaffected by beautiful Wolves and also way more focused on the issue at hand – a sharp “And I’m Lydia. Let’s get back to who’s chasing you again?” cutting through whatever-the-fuck had just happened.

Blue eyes snap to her, finally leaving Stiles’ gaze. He feels oddly bereft and disappointed that all the staring stopped. But Lydia’s right. Got to keep them and the Wolfe alive long enough to maybe… 

Stiles is spared from finishing whatever _that_ thought was when a loud snarl echoes through the clearing.

Three pairs of bewildered eyes snap to the edge of the forest where two figures are pacing rapidly, not men; much, much larger than men.

“Pretty sure it’s them.” Stiles’ can’t be blamed if his voice wavers a little.

“Yeah, that’s them.” Isaac growls.

The Lycans don’t move from the tree line immediately. They pace and occasionally growl before decided to rush the barrier en masse. Of course, they probably didn’t realize it was a barrier until they smashed into it, if the enraged snarls are anything to go by.

Lydia jumped at the flash of bright energy blocking the Lycans before turning to Stiles quickly.

“What if the line breaks?”

Surprisingly, it’s Isaac that answers her. “They can’t move or manipulate it. We’ll be fine so long as it stays unbroken by a human.”

Lydia nods frantically and starts tugging on Stiles’ jacket to get him back to the car.

“We should go-”

 She never finishes because the relative quiet of the night is shattered by a deep reverberating howl that can probably be heard for miles.

The Lycans stopped their resumed pacing by the edge of the Mountain Ash and turn to face the woods. 

Stiles doesn’t think twice before cocking his weapon and firing four times in rapid succession. He’s pretty sure he gets an ace shot off; right under the left shoulder blade but the second Lycan heard the first two shots and twisted sideways, the third shot only grazing it.

The unharmed Lycan takes off quick as a blink for the tree line even as the wounded one drops to the ground, making aggressively wet gargling sounds in its throat. It twitches there for a second before stilling and turning back into a middle-aged man with blonde hair.

“Holy shit, I’m glad you didn’t shoot at me.” Isaac eyes are wide, as if he was startled by the gunfire. 

“Hardly ever miss.” And finally it’s Stiles’ turn to smirk teasingly.

“Well at least he never had the chance to howl back.” Lydia tosses her hair over her shoulder nervously but looks kind of proud of Stiles regardless.

“That howl wasn’t for them.” Isaac voice is soft even as another figure emerges from the trees. 

*********2001************* 

It’s really all Stiles’ fault.

They were definitely not supposed to be out after Dark, especially not outside the Gate.

But when you’re young and stupid, rules seem meant to be broken, even ones specifically designed to save your life.

There hadn’t been a Supe sighting around Beacon Hills for two whole years and it was a beautiful night out. Scott’s mom had the Dark shift at the hospital and Stiles’ dad was probably knocked out at home right now, thinking they were both safely inside at Scott’s house playing video games.

Instead there were right on the outskirts of town, the Gate within view, though they were a good distance from the main entrance with two illegal six packs and loads of comic books and even flashlights.

They had just wanted to go camping.

Stiles was sprawled out on his stomach on the blanket, half way through his favorite Spiderman and Deadpool team-up and Scott was kneeling next to him, trying out his puppy dog eyes.

Stiles’ had had four beers and Scott had managed to finish off his entire six-pack already and had been harassing Stiles for one of his.

“No way, man. You should have savored yours.”

Scott’s answering laugh turned into a cry of pain before Stiles even registered it. There was a great crash and Scott was no longer right beside Stiles.

He sat up in a panic, shouting his best friend’s name. The bushes to his right suddenly exploded outwards in an angry flurry of leaves and noise as Scott and a massive, hairy Lycan rolled back towards Stiles.

Screaming in terror, he drew his gun and tried to find a clear shot but the Lycan was massive and covering Scott with its bulk.

Finally it reared back, both arms in the air, probably for the death blow as Stiles aimed, breathed, and took the shot almost all in one motion, ten years of training kicking in without any conscious thought from him. 

The shot took the Lycan straight between the eyes and its giant body morphed into a young guy in his late twenties and fell to the ground with a low thud.

Scott was a mess of cuts and blood. Stiles freaking out, managed to get them to the hospital just as dawn was arriving.

Scott’s mom was frantic and Stiles had never seen his father so scared and angry before.

Scott stayed in the hospital for exactly twelve days before the whole town knew that he had been Bitten.

Four days after that, Scott and his mom were run out of town by an honest-to-god lynch mob.

Stiles and his dad moved to a nearby settlement soon after.

Stiles never heard from Scott again.


	5. Hey, It's Not Your Fault

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, i just want to thank everyone for their patience and the nice comments and all of the kudos! you all are so sweet, i'm feeling more and more guilty when i can't write.
> 
> i am actually feeling a little overwhelmed with RL (looking for a job on a time-table is pretty stressful) and it's sucking a lot of my energy and time and motivation to even look at my computer in my leisure time because i have spent SO MUCH TIME reworking my resume... UGH. 
> 
> anyways, i'm sorry for not writing more. here's chapter 5, i'm still about three ahead and also, i could probably split the later ones up, there's a lot going on there hahaa. i have a rough idea of where we are headed, and am trying to write everyday, even if it's shite so i'm going to force myself from today on at least 100 words of this story, minimum. i will get you the ending, even if it is clunky AF, my dearies.
> 
> thanks again for being lovely ducklings... now back to the regularly scheduled program.

**********2013************

 There’s nothing even remotely familiar about the figure as it steps out from the trees and closer to the three of them.

 Though as it draws closer Stiles can distinguish more features, the long nose, the slightly too angular, uneven jawline, the calm expression in those dark eyes.

 Stiles knows, from one glance, immediately, that it’s Scott in front of them.

 Fortunately, Isaac jumps the protective circle and runs to the other Wolfe (one can only hope) quickly before his attention can focus on either Stiles or Lydia.

 But then again, why would he look closely at their faces? He’s not assuming long lost friends but random humans.

 The hug the two Lycanthropes share is tight to the point that it looks painful from where he’s standing. Stiles feels a sharp, angry flash of jealousy run through him, though in the moment he’s not sure what it’s from.

 It could be equal parts the completely unrealistic reaction to someone touching Isaac or the fact that Scott is hugging the Wolfe in a way that suggests close friendship, something that Stiles can’t help but feel is somehow rightfully his, even if he’s the reason Scott is what he is.

 Scott has jammed his face in the crook of Isaac’s neck and suddenly is breaking away from the embrace to open surprised and accusing eyes at Isaac.

 “What? You smell - ” Scotts cuts himself off, slowly stepping around Isaac to see Stiles and Lydia, frozen in shock still by the edge of the protection.

 “St-Stiles? Lydia?” Scott’s voice cracks on Stiles’ name and he sounds close to tears.

 Lydia answers first by breaking into a sob and then _crossing the line_ to rush to Scott and fling her arms around his neck.

 It’s a second before he hugs her back, still staring dumbly at Stiles who still can’t make himself move. Slowly, Scott’s arms come up to cling tightly the small of Lydia’s back as he ducks a bit to smell her hair.

 Isaac’s confusion looks about as accurate as it gets and Stiles is finally broken out of whatever trance he was in. As he draws closer, Scott murmurs into Lydia’s hair and gently disentangles himself from their hug.

 Stiles still can’t quite believe it.

 “Scott. I – you just, there was no time. I’m so-” Stiles’ hands are shaking now. There are so many things he wants to apologize for, first and foremost would be the elephant in the room called transmittable Lycanthropy but he finds his tongue is tangled and his eyes are stinging too hard for him to focus on the words.

 Scott just shakes his head and pulls Stiles into a jarring hug, squeezing until Stiles feels some of his vertebrae cry out in protest. He does nothing to stop it though, wrapping his arms high around Scott’s back as hard as humanly possible.

 “Oh God, Stiles. I didn’t think I’d _ever_ see you again,” Scotts pulls away and keeps his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, holding him at arm’s length so that he can watch his face “there’s so much I have to tell you but right now - ”

 A howl even louder and somehow angrier than the first carries through the forest, and the resulting shiver down Stiles’ spine is not reassuring.

 “We have to move, like, ten minutes ago. Deucalion’s pack is right behind us.” Scott’s attention shifts from Stiles to meet Isaac’s worried gaze, “Cora and Derek are laying a false trail. They sent me to get you and double around but since we’ve got these two I’m thinking straight-shot, top speed back to camp?”

 Isaac nods and makes an aborted move towards Lydia before Stiles snorts.

 “Um, thanks but no thanks? Lydia and I have a pick-up at dawn and if we’re not here…” Stiles shakes his head, “We’ll just wait here. Isaac said they can’t break the circle.”

 Stiles starts at the frustrated growl Scott gives, his eyes flashing yellow for a second. He quickly turns away, his hands balling into fists. Lydia warily starts to back up towards the lines but everyone seems to stop when Scott starts laughing softly.

 “I know it’s been a while, but you both have to trust me. Deucalion is a fucking sociopath. He’ll wait until dawn and have his Pack slaughter your team as they arrive. Then he’ll just wait for you to starve or make one of your own break the circle. He’d do it for no other reason than he could, normally, and being able to smell that you harbored Isaac? He’d do it and then kill you slowly to make you hurt. Please, _please_ , come with us. We’ll get you back,” And it’s ridiculous really, to think that having an uncontrollable inclination to go furry and pee on fire hydrants once a month would make Scott a different person. Or diminish the power of the full force puppy-dog eyes.

 “Shit.” Stiles truly knows he’s lost the argument as he glances to Lydia for confirmation and sees her already returning from Betsy, presumably with the comm, to stand beside Isaac.

He feels another stupid flare of jealousy in his stomach and studiously avoids both pairs of Wolfey eyes as they look at him curiously.

Turning his back on Isaac and Lydia, who the Wolfe had easily swung onto his back instead of bending down like Scott and letting Stiles clamber on gracelessly, he watches as Scott turns furry right before his eyes.

It may actually be cool enough to make him double-take, the coarse-haired, crazy shaggy sideburns that sprout along with the fangs and claws and slightly distorted upper facial skin.

Scott waits for Stiles to find a good grip and then takes off without another word.

With his arms tightly holding on for dear life around Scott’s neck and his legs wrapped as well as he can around his waist, Stiles chances a glance backwards to see Lydia holding just as tightly to Isaac with a wild, happy grin on her face.

Not many people have ever ridden a Shifter and Lydia has always enjoyed fast, a bit flashy and very dangerous. 

That flare up of jealously is back again and Stiles is glad that Scott seems to be using all of his air and concentration to run full speed ahead and not kill them both by crashing into a tree.

Because it’s obvious that Lycanthropes can smell the more clear-cut or intense emotions vey clearly.

Double fucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO I REALIZED I CAN DO A PLAYLIST FOR YOU GUYS!! 
> 
> so let me know in the comments, i have a soundcloud and a spotify where i can collect the songs i've used (all of the titles are song lyrics or titles). lmk. i would love to do that because you all are awesome!!
> 
> but if you want to get started regardless"
> 
> 1\. Never Let Me Go - Florence + The Machine  
> 2\. Reminder - Moderat  
> 3\. Ethereal - Moderat  
> 4\. Eating Hooks - Moderat  
> 5\. Your Heart Sounds Like - Fhin  
> 6\. Too Late to Change the Past - Pollyn


	6. I Can't Give Up (not now, not then)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i mention that i felt guilty? thanks for being dolls.
> 
> have a long as frickfrack chapter. because you're amazing.
> 
> yes, you.

The Wolfe camp is nothing like Stiles expected it to be, and honestly, he’s kind of ashamed of himself for what he had thought it _would_ look like.

Instead of fur tents and dirty children running between campfires and playing in squalor, it’s a settlement, much like the one that Stiles’ father is anxiously waiting for him back home in.

The Wolves found a hamlet, maybe thirty houses in two neat rows either side of a main drag of a road with shanties popping up between buildings, creating a neat labyrinth.

Many of the houses had handmade signs for businesses and some are just stamped with names, Stiles supposes they are the Clan Leaders’ homes.

The people all stare at their party as they make their way to what used to be Town Hall, where the Clan Leaders clearly keep their office.

Stiles sees one guy splitting firewood by the bank turned hospice, full Wolfe face on. Stiles can see the yellow glint in his eyes from thirty paces and next to him is a little human boy, dutifully running in to collect the split logs as soon as the Wolfe has lowered the ax. On one turn the Lycanthrope reaches out and ruffles the kid’s hair fondly, the child beaming at him in return.

It’s a _mixed community_. Stiles feels his mouth drop open in mild shock and turns to tell Lydia.

Only to find that Lydia must have already continued inside with Isaac as it’s just Scott there looking at him.

“Hey.” He nods once and drops his eyes as Scott returns the greeting.

He’s not sure what to say at this point; ‘I thought you were dead’ seems to have already been covered and he’s not sure if now is the right time for ‘ _we should have left with you_ ’ or ‘ _I should have done something_ ’ so he stays silent.

“I missed you, dude.” Scott’s voice almost makes Stiles jump.

“Me too.” Stiles knows he’s gonna cry any minute now, it’s just that it’s _Scott_ who was his best friend since Stiles can remember.

_Scott_ whom Stiles got Bitten and run out of town, almost got his mother hurt, and sentenced him to a cursed life with his actions.

He wants to say that he’s sorry and Stiles is sure that Scott hates him, has for at least two years, and will never forgive him.

He can’t blame him.

He opens his mouth, maybe to just say all that and hope for the best but he’s cut off by Isaac sticking his head around the door.

“Derek, Talia and Peter are waiting for you.” He glances between them uncertainly and then looks down. “I can tell them five minutes?”

Scott moves away from Stiles with a wan smile and a soft pat on the shoulder.

“No need Isaac, we can catch up later. Besides, I don’t want to send you into _that_ viper’s den with bad news. I’m not that bad of a friend.”

Scott and Isaac both chuckle, though Stiles is mystified. And also a little annoyed.

“So you left Lydia with them?” He glares at Isaac, who hunches his shoulders minutely but grins nastily at Stiles.

“Derek told me to come.” Isaac seems angry, his words are sharp and his eyes look like chips of ice, completely different to the humor Stiles had seen there earlier.

Scott steps between them before Stiles can open his mouth again and make it worse.

“I know, Isaac. Honestly though, in a fight between Lydia and the three of them, I might be tempted to bet on her.”

Isaac smiles slightly, mostly in gratitude to Scott and ignores Stiles completely as they enter the building.

The walls are bare and empty, their footsteps echoing up and down the hallway so that they almost sound like an entire militia.

The hallway ends in a large set of double doors that Scott and Isaac shoulder open together.

Inside the room are rows of tables to either side of a middle aisle leading to a raised podium with a collection of mismatched chairs and tables on it. There’s a row of bookcases along the back and a desk right before them.

It looks like an office, except it’s just in the middle of the room.

Lydia is sitting in the largest high back chair with her usual rigid posture and impassivity.

Her stare is level and being held by a nondescript guy in his thirties with blonde hair that’s sitting in the chair across from her.

A teapot and two steaming cups of tea sit between them, seemingly untouched.

There’s a pretty, dark-haired woman sitting behind the desk leafing through a book and a large, dark-haired guy pacing on the far left side of the dais.

His eyes immediately snap to them as they enter, though the other three occupants show little interest with their arrival.

Lydia and the creepy guy are still having their silent battle of wills and the woman seems to be at the really good part of her book.

The scary dude just stares at them angrily until they reach the stage.

Isaac and Scott hop up easily, leaving Stiles to awkwardly swing his leg up and scurry over.

The scary dude is staring at him in barely disguised contempt even though no one else seems to be interested in watching the clumsy human scramble up.

Scott and the woman at the desk are conversing in low tones and that creepy guy is _still_ having a staring contest with Lydia. Isaac is sitting on a low table behind the younger creepy guy, seemingly really interested in his fingernails.

And if this silent, weird group of creepy staring people aren’t the weirdest thing he’s ever seen, then Stiles is – well, he doesn’t know what, but he wishes that everyone would use their big people words.

The woman murmurs one last thing to Scott before taking her feet.

“Peter, stop trying to scare that girl, she’s going to stab you with the tongs and I won’t blame her.” She doesn’t even look at creepy guy, who must be Peter, as she moves around the desk to come speak to Stiles.

“Hi? I’m Stiles.”

She sticks out her hand and he takes it automatically. She’s very pretty and seems nice enough, but there’s a definite thrum of power in her. Her hands are just as hot as Isaac was.

“Talia Hale. I’m Alpha of this Pack and one of the founding members of this community. I hear that you helped one of my Pack and I thank you for it.”

Her smile is welcoming, edging on warm.   She reminds Stiles of his own mother, regal and elegant.

“We’ll do our best to see you home as soon as possible. Until then, you’ll stay here in camp and be expected to earn keep just as you do in your home and in return you will be treated as all other residents. I will call for you when things are ready.”

Stiles takes a step back warily. “Wait, woah. That’s all cool and you’re welcome, I’m not a di- uhm, jerk? He needed help.” Stiles doesn’t mention that his stunning beauty may have played a factor.

“My only issue is just how long do you think we’re gonna stay here? I mean, it’s nice of you, but I have to get home to my dad and-”

“Young man.” And there’s the power, her voice is sharp but still melodious, cutting him off without her even having to raise her volume.

“There are things at work here which you do not understand. We are under siege, I’m sure you’ve noticed that we are a mixed community here. Any race is welcome, so long as they sign the Charter. I can imagine you’ve seen how humans can react to the presence of Supes in their midst, I know of your history with Scott.”

Stiles flinches slightly and casts a guilty glance at Scott whose only response is to pull an embarrassed face and shrug apologetically.

Talia takes no notice, and she turns slightly away from Stiles now, continuing to one of the longer reading tables and picking up a volume.

She leafs through the pages as she comes back to Stiles.

“Now imagine that outrage, that fear of the unknown in a Supe; an old one, one older than you can even comprehend. Just think, think on that kind of hatred but with the power of claws, teeth, terror and centuries of knowledge behind it.”

She hands Stiles the open book. He looks down and is met with an illustration of a Lycan turned towards the reader. Its eyes shine with animalistic anger, even through the medium of an old drawing. The monster is surrounded by what look like hundreds of figures, some wolves, some shadowy beasts and of course, there are plenty of other Lycans there as well.

“Deucalion is ancient and powerful. His hatred for humans has twisted his heart and mind, centuries of living in the shadows and finally we have daylight only to be massacred and hunted. He has decided that humans are to be hunted, straight to extinction. He knows we live here together and has set his sights on us. He caught Scott and Isaac out tonight, so we now know he is patrolling the village.”

Stiles stares down at the drawing, tries to imagine this malevolent man out in the woods, surrounding these people with his evil cronies. Knows what he will do given half a chance, and yes, Talia’s right. He has seen what people can do out of fear and hate, and the thought that this man is just as bigoted but so many times more powerful is a scary fucking thought.

“Right, so… We stay here while you all try, and probably fail, to beat this guy. Walking in I saw maybe twenty able-bodied people, not counting children. If what you’re saying is true, then maybe you need some help. If there’s any way to get my dad here, so get us back there so we can get people-”

“The woods are too dangerous, daylight is the only safe time to travel and we have no vehicles to spare. I can’t send my Wolves with you, or they would get trapped there. How much hospitality would your Clan show my Wolves? There is no other option but for you to stay. You may fight, if you wish, but you are the only one responsible for your actions. I will keep you safe until the last of my People is fallen and then, if what you say is inevitable happens, how long do you think you will be safe in your village anyway? With Deucalion in the woods, baying for human blood?”

Stiles looks at Lydia and she looks back calmly and nods.

“Fine, we’ll stay and I’ll, at least, fight. You’re right, we either knock them out here or the whole area is doomed. When the sun comes up, I’ve got a bunch of ammo, weapons and some rations if you need them.”

Stiles spares a glance at Scott, “If you’d take me?”

Scott’s grin is just as carefree and friendly as he remembers, “Yeah, ‘f course, Stiles”.

Talia’s face is surprised and grudgingly impressed as she shakes his hand a second time.

“Thank you. Tomorrow at sundown you should both come to the Council. It was a pleasure meeting you, Stiles, Lydia.”

With a regal nod of her head to them both, she continues past Stiles, gripping Peter’s shoulder tightly where he had been creepily finishing his tea during their conversation.

Peter places his cup down and sweeps after Talia out of his chair with a wink at Lydia.

Lydia rolls her eyes so hard that Stiles would be worried for the integrity of her eye sockets if he didn’t know her.

Which leaves them in the room with scary guy number two, who through process of elimination, must be Derek. Figuring it’s never bad to make friends, Stiles walks up to him and extends his hand.

“I’m Stiles. You’re Derek, right?”

The guy grunts and doesn’t uncross his arms though he does flex his chest. Stiles, very assiduously does not look, especially with Isaac right behind the guy. Stiles can feel the smaller Wolfe’s eyes boring into him but keeps his own on Derek’s face, a calm and benign smile on his face.

“You really think some guns and protein bars are going to be an actual help?” Derek raises one eyebrow and looks very unimpressed.

Stiles decides that he’s a douchebag almost immediately after the eyebrow saunters its way up. So he does what he does best, provokes the asshole bully.

“Yeah, actually I do. You ever been shot with a Wolfsbane bullet, Derek? I bet it stings like a motherfucker, bet it hurts like nothing else. Not just the bullet wound itself, but the poison moving swiftly through your veins, tingling in your bloodstream. _I_ bet it stings so badly you’re distracted just enough to get a set of claws to your throat that you never saw coming.”

Stiles steps a little closer to the guy now, carefully and slowly, “But like I said, I’m not sure. But I’ve got an extra clip on me now, if you have an itch to learn.”

Derek’s face is positively murderous. Now Stiles doesn’t know him well, but murderous feels like a very usual facial expression for him right now.

Derek shoves him out of his personal space with a snarl.

And then a lot of things happen at once.

Stiles’ ass hits the floor, _hard_ and he actually bounces once before sprawling out in a tangle of elbows and knees on the ground.

Stiles hears Scott shouting at Derek.

Lydia is just shouting in general.

And Isaac is standing over Stiles, between him and Derek, fully furred out and growling low in his throat, a continuous snarled rumble. 

A warning.

Derek’s eyes flash blue for a second and his fists clench and unclench before he finally barks once, rough and harsh in his human throat. 

“Alright. Stand down.”

Isaac slowly lowers his fighting posture, his features melting back to human but he doesn’t submit or move until Derek lets out a long-suffering sigh and holds his hands out in gesture of ‘okay, I’m leaving’ while rolling his eyes impressively.

Only when Derek has moved off the stage and is halfway to the doors does Isaac turn around and help Stiles up.

Stiles grabs the hand offered but also wraps his own around Isaac’s bicep.

“Ouch. Hate to be in front of his right hook. My coccyx will never be the same.”

He rubs his butt, wincing at the sudden shock of pain as he feels Isaac’s hand wrap around the one he still has touching the Wolfe’s arm.

“Watch.”

Isaac carefully takes his hand in both of his and squeezes gently.

Stiles watches in fascination as the veins in Isaac’s hand turn black against his skin and suddenly Stiles’ tailbone and lower back feel as good as new.

“Holy shit! That’s amazing, dude. I didn’t know you guys could do that.” Stiles grabs the Wolfe’s hands before he thinks it through, turning them over to study the skin over his wrists where the last of the black is starting to fade.

“It’s a good thing it was just a bruise. If he broke any bones, I wouldn’t be able to fix that.” Isaac is watching him warily from underneath long lashes, his shoulders hunched so that Stiles can keep grip of his wrists, that he has been absent-mindedly running his thumbs over for who knows how long.

Regretfully he stops himself and slowly lowers Isaac’s hands before letting go.

“Thanks.” He has to clear his throat and try twice before he can get the word out, Isaac’s clear blue eyes still staring at him almost like he might be scared of him.

The Wolfe lowers his eyes and takes a step back. Stiles has a weird urge to reach out and stop him, but isn’t sure if that’s the right move yet.

“You’re welcome.” Isaac throws over his shoulder as he jumps gracefully off the stage, leaving Scott and Lydia with Stiles.

Lydia is still sitting in her chair from earlier and Scott is in the one that Peter vacated. When Stiles looks up at them from watching Isaac walk out the doors, they both grin at him.

Stiles feels his face flush.

“What?” And yeah, maybe getting defensive right now gives everything away but he feels like a bug under a microscope and is realizing that his inexplicable chemistry with Isaac is pretty blatant.

“Nothing, darling.” Lydia drawls in her most insincere sounding voice.

“Yeah, dude. It’s cool. I mean, Isaac doesn’t- I mean. Nice. It’s good. Very cool and good.”

Scott’s answer seems to confuse even himself and it’s his turn to blush.

Stiles tries to cover how uncomfortable he is by rolling his eyes. “Whatever dude. So, uh- how’re things?”

Scott’s smile is reassuring and kind, even now.

“Great, actually. Mom’s about three miles out, living with her guy friend on his farm. They come here to trade every two weeks. She’s happy and I’m here. It’s good to have a Pack, even if Derek is a bit of a dick most of the time. And there’s a girl…”

Scott blushes again and trails off uncertainly. “I mean, at least I _think_ there’s a girl. We’ll see.”

Lydia smiles at him and gets up to wrap her arms around his neck and smoosh his face into her shoulder.

“You darling, dumb little thing. I’ve missed you.”

Scott cranes his neck to smile up at her, “I’ve missed you guys too.”

Stiles meets Scott’s smile when his friend turns to him, but he’s frowning very much inside.

Scott seems happy, but what if he were still human? Humans and crazy, genocidal Lycans wouldn’t be hunting him, for starters.

“Come on, Peter gave me some hooch for doing him a favor last month. I say we go have a drink. It’s been a long night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pssst, playlist update!
> 
> 1\. Never Let Me Go - Florence + The Machine  
> 2\. Reminder - Moderat  
> 3\. Ethereal - Moderat  
> 4\. Eating Hooks - Moderat  
> 5\. Your Heart Sounds Like - Fhin   
> 6\. Too Late to Change the Past - Pollyn  
> 7\. Love Me In Whatever Way - James Blake


	7. Feeding Off Lines That Shouldn't Shake Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH! So guess who got hired?! It only took like, four months of intense anxiety and constant searching. I was seriously avid about it. I would be scrolling on my phone, but guess what? NOT TUMBLR, job sites. Every spare fuckin' minute I had; AT MY OLD JOB IN THE BATHROOM. 
> 
> and it finally paid off. i start full-time monday at this dope casual office set-up for $4 more than I make now and i am super psyched. Adulting all the time will probs be tiring, but i will have a set schedule and be able to actually write more. I just did 100 words simply opening this guy up. 
> 
> so i totally wanted to thank you guys, as you can see this chapter was like, a million words (~1000) and i have additionally gotten the playlist up and running now. you are all wonderful. <3
> 
> so anyways, i'm jazzed and ready to have some fun! :D
> 
> as usual, i'm flying unbeta'd, please excuse mistakes. want the job?
> 
> chapter title from the newest playlist song!  
> For Even My Mother Won't Find Me There - Amane & Jamie Isaac

Scott’s shanty is on the very edge of the settlement’s north end; his neighbors are a family of seven humans, the parents and their five kids. They obviously usually make this amount of unholy noise because Scott just talks over _everything_ they can hear through the wall and doesn’t mention it.

The shanty is small and dark, but clean. There are shelves on the one wall with the window, filled with knick-knacks. 

The only furniture besides the two cots in opposite corners is a small table and two chairs and a shaky looking end table beside one of the cots.

On the table is a framed picture of him, Lydia and Scott as children. 

“So this is me. I’ll grab another cot and blankets if we can spare it. I already have an extra for when mom visits.”

Stiles looks at the picture while Lydia’s bright eyes take in every aspect of Scott’s shanty.

“So, this is the bachelor pad?” she offers with a smirk, which Scott returns.

“Yup, livin’ in the lap of luxury with my dirt floor and three free-standing walls.” Scott quips back and all three of them laugh.

Scott pops open the hooch and scurries off to see if he can find Talia to ask about the cot. Lydia does not miss the opportunity for the third degree.

“So, you can’t take your eyes off of Isaac, huh?” Lydia frames the question right as Stiles is going to take a tentative sip of his paint thinner.

The burn that started in his lips seems to spread across his face, down his throat and into his entire body as he coughs and splutters.

Lydia’s smirk is triumphant and he punches her shoulder weakly in response. “Yeah, well, a Wolfe is easy on the eyes, man,” he answers after catching his breath.

Lydia snorts, almost losing her own mouthful of alcohol, “Tell me about it! Though I would have thought tall and surly with a side of eyebrows more your cup of tea.”

Stiles clears his throat awkwardly, “Actually, I knew that wasn’t gonna work before he even opened his mouth. I couldn’t be with someone that needed to be the Alpha _all_ the time, you know?”

Lydia nods in understanding just as Scott comes lumbering back into the shack. He plops down the extra cot and grins widely at them.

“Alright, early to bed. Chores in the morning!”

Both Stiles and Lydia groan but amble off to their separate cots.

**** **** **** 

In the morning, Scott gets up with the crow and plain enthusiasms and coddles Stiles and Lydia out of bed and towards the Main Hall. Apparently, for each chore shift there is a communal meal served before work commences.

Stiles is warmed by the sleepy interactions he sees between the village inhabitants.

Children; human and Wolfe alike jostle each other sleepily, wipe at their eyes and a few are even snoozing at the table, forgotten breakfast pilfered by their friends.

Teenagers joke and roughhouse in the corner, an occasional snarl or yip earning an exasperated growl or bark from a tired adult nearby.

Stiles eats his breakfast, taking in all the sights around him. His community is similar, but with the added difference that everyone there is a plain Jane Human. Supes are usually prosecuted, if not physically harmed in most Human communities.

Just thinking of what almost happened to Scott turns his stomach; a huge reason Stiles and his father left Beacon Hills after Scott got Bitten. Stiles prefers this model much more.

He’s almost done with his breakfast when he turns to see Lydia engrossed in conversation with a pretty girl with dark brown hair.

Stiles walks over to them, hoping to figure out where to go, since Scotts seems to have been suckered into serving breakfast. Still too sweet and gullible for his own good it seems. Nice to know that some things haven’t changed, Stiles smirks to himself as he passes Scott trying to demur putting on an apron from a matronly looking woman.

Yeah, ok, buddy. See you around noon.  

When Stiles makes it to Lydia and her new friend, however, he can tell that he’s just intruded somewhere he doesn’t need to be.

“Hey, Lydia. I’m gonna go see if I can find one of the Hales to give me something to do.” He announces as he approaches. Better to explain he doesn’t plan to stay out front.

Lydia’s companion turns to him with a mischievous grin, “Looks like your lucky day. You don’t have to go any further.”

Lydia laughs softly to herself at Stiles’ utterly bewildered face.   The girl keeps a straight face for a moment before she bursts into laughter herself.

“Sorry, there aren’t many newbies here to fuck with,” she climbs off of the table and sticks her hand out for Stiles to shake. “Cora Hale.”

Stiles finally lets out a laugh, in on the joke at last. “Ahh, well, perfect. You can spare me from interacting with your… _charming_ uncle and brother.”

He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth, but Cora just guffaws in response. “Right? I don’t know what crawled up Derek’s ass at birth, but all the operations to remove it were a failure.”

Stiles can’t help his grin. He decides that the Hale women are the Pack’s saving grace and prays that their line be matriarchal forever and ever, Amen.

Cora leads the way out of the Hall, Stiles spares Scott a rueful wave on their way out.

“Family secret’s safe with me, cross my heart.” Stiles mimes zipping his lips. “So, how can I help around here? I’m good at books and stuff? Cleaning and laundry, well, I’m sure you all like your clothes in one piece and your furniture undamaged…”

Cora laughs at him again and shakes her head. “Why don’t you try over at the library, then? I know there are _tons_ of books that need digitizing.”

Stiles can’t help it, but he practically lights up in glee, “Do you mean ancient and secret Lycanthrope texts that need to be converted to digital?! Did you really just say that to me? Did my birthday, Christmas, and my half-birthday all come at once?!" 

Stiles is halfway to the building that Cora had pointed towards before he was even done speaking. The girls’ laughter following him down the street. He had never even asked what chores they were on their way to do. Figures Lydia would get to skip chores all together by making gal pals with an heir to the Pack.

“Books, I _love~_ books,” Stiles singsongs to himself as he enters the library. It’s the original building, alright, with the sweeping, spiral staircase and the domed, glass ceiling. Stiles feels like he’s stepped into a wormhole and been zipped back to the past.

“Alright, gonna get my scholar on,” Stiles is still sing-humming to himself as he meanders through the stacks, lighting his fingers on random spines, just soaking up the atmosphere. Libraries have always calmed him considerably.

“Stiles?” He jumps as Isaac’s soft voice intrudes on his book-flavored fantasy.

“Oh, Isaac!” Stiles stops and clears his throat, hoping the squeak that just happened will go unmentioned.

Isaac is a saint and other than smiling gently, in fact, does not mention it.

“I was hoping I’d run into you,” the Wolfe says, smiling genuinely. Isaac doesn’t hold his gaze for long, lowering his pretty eyes, and face in general, to the floor.

Stiles may be seeing things, but he’s pretty sure that there was a delicate flush of pink gracing those sculpted cheekbones.

Stiles feels his stomach jump at the confession and knows his pulse has picked up. Damning his inability to play it cool around a hottie that can _hear_ when he’s nervous, Stiles begins to babble:

“So Lydia met Cora, only she didn’t tell me she was Cora and then Cora said she was a Hale and that the library needed help and I’m really good at reading and book stuff so I came here like Cora said.”

He is as red as a cherry tomato by the time his mouth decides it’s going to stop moving. His brain finally catches up to his body and he stops himself from face palming about a second before it happens.

Isaac only looks amused, still shy, but now shy and amused and beginning to feel less shy because Stiles is the biggest dork that ever dorked.

Isaac clears his throat hopefully, waiting to see if Stiles’ verbal diarrhea has passed or not. Stiles fears he’s going to pass out any second seeing as all the blood in his body is currently rushing towards his face.

“I’m going to guess that you ran into Cora and like the idea of helping with research?” Isaac teases with a smirk before he quickly turns away and begins to walk out of the stacks towards the grand staircase.

Stiles barks out an involuntary laugh and nods, practically leaping after the Wolfe to walk beside him.

Isaac smiles at him, “Luckily, I’m working on that myself. Here, I can get you set up in the corner on one of the smaller tomes. Just remember to dictate exactly where you left off.”

Stiles nods along as they walk, listening intently while Isaac shares some other tips, simply enjoying the presence of this Lycanthrope and his gentle, but sure, demeanor.

When they reach the research wing, located two floors down, Isaac sets him up in the corner with a book as promised.

Not exactly as promised though, since Isaac takes a seat in the opposite corner of the room. Stiles watches him get settled at his desk, which is completely obscured by multiple books, tomes and scrolls spread out in no discernible order, as well as pens, inkwells, scraps of paper and at least three notebooks that Stiles can see.

Oh, Goddesses above, Isaac is an adorable nerd. Stiles’ heart might be melting.

And because the universe lives to test Stiles, as soon as he gets settled in with his book, he glances up and realizes that Isaac wears _reading glasses_.

This perfect, cherubic motherfucker with the golden curls and baby blue eyes is _now wearing glasses_ on his fucking _face_ and Stiles is about to have an aneurysm.

The twinge of arousal at that face framed by glasses is involuntary. In fact, it seems that 90-something% of Stiles’ reactions to Isaac are completely involuntary.

That doesn’t mean that Isaac doesn’t hear Stiles’ heart beginning to gallop like a fucking stampede and that he can’t smell why Stiles is on the verge of cardiac arrest.

Isaac looks up from over the top of his book, eyes zeroing in on and boring into Stiles’, who meets his gaze, helpless.

Isaac opens his mouth –

“Stiles.” The gruff tone kills whatever happy, romantic, eye contact magic they have going on with an almost audible thud.

Stiles startles at the abruptness of the intrusion and turns to see none other than Derek Hale standing in the doorway, scowling like it might be an Olympic sport if he tries hard enough.

“Talia says you and I can go retrieve your things whenever you’re ready.”

Derek crosses his arms, almost like he missed doing it and scowls at them, waiting for a response.

Isaac turns to him, doing a poor job of hiding his disappointment. “It’s fine, the books aren’t going anywhere.”

Stiles nods awkwardly, wanting to acknowledge whatever weird thing just passed between them, but seriously lacking the vocabulary, and with Derek standing in the entrance impersonating an irritated Grim Reaper, the guts.

Regretfully, Stiles marks his place, though he got further into his sexy librarian Isaac watching than he did into his actual work, and follows Derek out of the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND another playlist update! I'm on fiiiiiiiiya (please imagine Sterling Archer's Dangerzone warble).
> 
> 1\. Never Let Me Go - Florence + The Machine  
> 2\. Reminder - Moderat  
> 3\. Ethereal - Moderat  
> 4\. Eating Hooks - Moderat  
> 5\. Your Heart Sounds Like - Fhin  
> 6\. Too Late to Change the Past - Pollyn  
> 7\. Love Me In Whatever Way - James Blake  
> 8\. For Even My Mother Won't Find Me There - Amane & Jamie Isaac
> 
> playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/user/lirael_yvaine/playlist/44kA02h7Vg9v4fUv99My87
> 
> anyone is welcome to follow me on spotify (or just listen to my musics; all my playlists are public) @lirael_yvaine.
> 
> i have added all the songs to the the playlist 'questions for a sinner like me'. i omitted my usual emojis in case things are hard for anyone to read. i thrive in that black background, but it's not for everyone. ok, kiddies, off to write. :D


	8. Family Tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha! I have been busy and tired.   
> It's been about a month and I am feeling much better about work and the schedule and everything, so yay. :)
> 
> i usually hate doing anything after work so here's to hoping less errands and all.   
> enjoy ~1000 words.
> 
> ALSO, while I'm typing I am trying to work in present tense (this is the first story that I have actively written the entire thing in present tense so I am very unpracticed - if you see a slip up, you can let me know and i can edit it out! ta, ya'll).
> 
> i adore you all dearly, <3.

“Got some ground to cover. Do we need a vehicle?” 

Derek doesn’t look anywhere but directly in front of him, and offers no other explanations on the walk. 

In fact, this is their first exchange since leaving the library and they have crossed the entire hamlet. 

“Sure, in case of trouble and also, juggling ten boxes of bullets while trying to ride side saddle might be a tad difficult.” 

Derek grunts in what would be either anger or agreement and veers off towards a SUV parked near the Hall. 

Stiles doesn’t want to cause problems, but it just seems like Derek kind of hates him and he really doesn’t want to exasperate that condition by being forced to spend time together. “Uhm, so I thought Scott was gonna take me?”

“He’s still busy in the hall and we’re wasting daylight,” Derek yanks the door open with, “Hop in, loser,” making Stiles double take in disbelief. 

Ok, so apparently you can’t judge a Wolfe by their growl… or… well, he’ll work that one out later when Derek Hale isn’t making surprise Mean Girls references. 

What else might be marginally cool about this guy that he missed?

They’ve been sitting in silence for about two minutes.

“So, like, sorry we got off on the wrong foot.” Stile offers. He knows this ride is at least twenty minutes by a Lycanthrope’s back so he figures, ten, fifteen in the car? He just guesses trying to make small talk is better than the awkward silence. 

Derek grunts noncommittally so Stiles tries again. 

“I know that is must be hard, running this place and now more humans –” 

“You think I care that you’re human?! My concern is that when Deucalion and his feral, mangy pack manage to get through, I now have two more potential innocent deaths hanging over my head.” Derek growls in frustration. “I don’t care that you’re human, kid. I care that you’re vulnerable, just like the kids you mentioned yesterday.”

Stiles winces, “Sorry, I just thought…” he doesn’t finish what he thought – that Derek disliked him because he is human, but he doesn’t want to misstep again. He clears his throat and changes tactics, instead.

“Look, I may be an innocent, but I’m not helpless. I’m an amazing shot and pretty admirable at hand-to-hand.” Stiles keeps the hard-won pride out of his voice, but wants Derek to understand he can hold his own. 

Derek shakes his head sadly, “Your gun can protect you for a while, but please, trust me, do not let them past your target line. If that happens, save the last bullet for yourself.”

Stiles clears his throat anxiously. “Alright, I get it. Thanks.” 

There are a couple of minutes of silence, but you can’t put Stiles in a corner, so he continues gamely on. “So, not to be rude, or, if it is even rude… I’ve never met any Lycanthropes before, only done reading, so I have to learn somehow.” 

Derek grunts at him in acknowledgment. Stiles would be alarmed, but he has already discovered from knowing the guy for half a day that this is his primary mode of communication. 

“Your mom is the Alpha… making you the Beta and Peter plain unsettling?” Stiles watches the part of Derek’s face he can see and is almost positive he saw the beginning quirks of a smile there. 

“Peter and I are both Talia’s Betas. Cora is the Delta and my little sister. And Isaac,” and here Derek cuts to look at Stiles in warning, making Stiles flush bright red. “Is the Gamma. We took him in when he was very young, so he is technically also in line to be Alpha someday.”

Stiles nods in understanding, willing his face back to normal, human colors. 

“So Isaac is kind of like, your little brother… And you’re his Beta?” Stiles is really confused about what happened in the Hall yesterday then. Did Isaac get in trouble for standing up to Derek like that?

“We’re more like siblings than anything else. The Pack is more structured the less family is involved, if that makes sense.” Derek continues. “Peter is my uncle, but when mom steps down, instead of a fight to determine the next Alpha, there will be a Pack vote between Peter and myself.”

“So when Isaac growled at you yesterday, it was more like a sibling disagreement?” Stiles clarifies, because while that Pack info is cool and all, not really what he was getting at.

Derek grunts in agreement and then definitely flushes slightly. “Uhm, sorry about that, by the way. I may have lost my cool a bit. Isaac really chewed me out about it later. I didn’t even mean to really push you that hard.”

Stiles couldn’t help the huge, shit-eating grin that spreads over his face if he wanted to. “Got the talkin’-to, huh? Well, no harm, no foul. But you should really quit hitting the gym if you’re gonna go around swatting unsuspecting humans to the ground.” And now it’s Stiles’ turn to flush because that may have sounded a little bit like a come on. 

Derek only grunts in embarrassment, “I really am so–” 

Stiles barks out a laugh, “Just kidding, dude. No sweat. We can start over, how about that?” 

Derek seems to get even redder but nods back in silence. They don’t say anything for the rest of the drive but now the silence is more companionable. 

Derek puts the car in park, but leaves it running. “Stay here,” he warns before slipping out the driver’s door and stalking around the car a bit. 

Derek seemingly sniffs the air and must deem in safe enough because he stalks to Stiles’ door and yanks it open. “Grab what you need, you have five minutes. The lines are still unbroken.”

Stiles gladly scrambles out of the SUV and over to his baby, Betsy. “Honeybear, I’m so sorry you’re stuck out here like this. I’ll give you so many waxings when we get home, sweetheart.” 

Stiles murmurs reassuring nonsense the entire time he moves all the ammo boxes and provisions. Derek even helps with the provisions, wisely making sure to let Stiles handle the ammo. 

“Alright, that’s it.” Stiles announces as he clambers back into the SUV and waits for Derek to do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> update to the playlist going live as update uploads. it's the new XXYYXX single. it's nice.
> 
> 1\. Never Let Me Go - Florence + The Machine  
> 2\. Reminder - Moderat  
> 3\. Ethereal - Moderat  
> 4\. Eating Hooks - Moderat  
> 5\. Your Heart Sounds Like - Fhin  
> 6\. Too Late to Change the Past - Pollyn  
> 7\. Love Me In Whatever Way - James Blake  
> 8\. For Even My Mother Won't Find Me There - Amane & Jamie Isaac  
> 9\. Red - XXYYXX
> 
> playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/user/lirael_yvaine/playlist/44kA02h7Vg9v4fUv99My87
> 
> anyone is welcome to follow me on spotify (or just listen to my musics; all my playlists are public) @lirael_yvaine.
> 
> i have added all the songs to the the playlist 'questions for a sinner like me'. i omitted my usual emojis in case things are hard for anyone to read. i thrive in that black background, but it's not for everyone.
> 
> hope everyone had a lovely family holiday.  
> xxx<3


	9. our veins are popping like blue train lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, hello there! it's been such a long while and it's fantastic to see you all. i've been gone for lots of personal reasons. see the BIIiig end notes if you're about it (can't miss 'em). but fornow, here's to the show!
> 
> **Chapter title from Blue Train Lines - Mount Kimbie (b-b-b-b-b-bonus track!)  
> coincidentally, not a song that makes it into the fricking story, but a song that i've been listening to a lot lately. i can't explain it, it just sounds like how things felt and were... long ago.

When they get back, Derek drops him off at the Hall, promising to grab a cart and bring his stuff to Scott’s place later on.

Stiles agrees amicably and makes his way back to the library, wanting to meet back up with Isaac. 

Before he can get far though, he hears Isaac call his name from the direction he just came from and whips around to meet him.

“Hey!” Stiles greets with a grin, “I was just coming to find you.”

He tries not to preen at the blush that slides across those stupidly perfect cheekbones.

“I went to talk to Talia for a minute. I also found something you might like.”

Isaac holds out his hand and gives Stiles a simple drawstring bag. “I smelled that you used Goober Dust last night, but it didn’t look like you had a lot of it and I just had that lying around, so.”

Stiles shrieks in excitement and jumps up and down animatedly. This is more Goober Dust than he’s ever seen in one place. “Holy shit, dude! Do you know how rare this is?!”

Before he can even think about it, Stiles is wrapping Isaac up in an exuberant hug with his face squished into that perfect neck. “Holy shit, Isaac! Thank you!”

When he puts him down, Isaac’s face is bright red and he won’t take his eyes off the ground. “So I guess you like it. You’re welcome.” He speaks looking downwards so softly that Stiles has to lean forward to hear him clearly.

“Yes, Isaac! Thanks so much.” Stiles grins at him but Isaac only nods frantically and mumbles something about the library before he literally bolts away.

Stiles is left standing there, holding the bag and still grinning. _Maybe too much, Stilinksi. You gotta ease ‘em in._

Stiles shrugs and heads back to Scott’s shanty, wanting to hide his new gift somewhere Lydia won’t find it. She’s of the Magic and Warding school of ‘Is it working? I better make sure it works by using twice as much as I need’ and blows through everything way too quickly. Stiles hoards his coveted supplies.

Scott is home when he gets there, his back to the entrance. “Hey, Isaac,” he greets before turning around and when he does, goes silent. “Oh, I thought you were Isaac… Have you –”

Scott seems to think better of it and abandons his question to just grin at Stiles instead.

“I just saw Isaac,” Stiles grins happily. “He gave me a present.”

Scott’s grin increases and a knowing glint comes to his eye. “Oh, really?”

When Stiles nods happily and sits down on the cot to examine his bag, Scott carries on tentatively. “Did he _say_ anything about it, maybe?”

Stiles shakes his head no and is about to follow that train of thought to its destination when Lydia bursts inside.

“Hello, boys! Isn’t it a lovely day?” She spins around twice, her copper hair waving through the air before she sinks down gracefully onto her cot.

“Well, shit. Looks like I’m going to be the only single one at this rate,” Scotts grumbles as he exits the shack to Lydia’s delighted giggles.

“What does he mean?” Stiles asks warily.

Lydia smiles at him serenely and blatantly ignores his question. “Did you know that Isaac is essentially a Hale?”

Stiles nods, “Yeah, Derek said they took him in.”

Lydia hums, smoothing down her sweater. “Meaning that Derek is his Beta and his older brother.”

Stiles nods, because, yes, he was already privy to this information.

“You know, Cora was telling me that before we came, Derek and Isaac were always two peas in a pod, never a dark cloud between them.” She continues, voice teasing.

Even though Lydia seems to mostly be joking Stiles blushes, finally understanding where this is going.

“I am _not_ a dark cloud!” He shouts, standing up abruptly.

“Nope, just a human. An _annoying_ human.” Derek answers from the doorway. He has the cart with him as promised.

Stiles is feeling faint from lack of blood in his brain as he begins unloading his junk and Derek helps with the provisions. “Just _how_ good is your hearing?”

“Good enough,” he grunts in reply.

When the last of the boxes have been shoved into Scott’s shanty, he turns to Stiles and pokes him gently in the shoulder, “Consider this your shovel talk,” before he calmly exits the hut.

Stiles just… can’t.

Lydia very much can, if her hysterical laughter is any indication.

** ** **

Stiles wakes suddenly to a great crashing sound. He sits up swiftly, trying to make out the shapes of Lydia and Scott in the darkness and sees neither of them.

The crashing sound has transformed into a cacophony as he registers the screams in the distance and the dull roar of fire. Reaching for his boots, Stiles stumbles out of his cot and tries to hear anything over the rushing of blood in his ears, his hands are numb but steady as he gives over to pure adrenaline, buckling his belt and tucking the Winchester into it, along with an extra silver clip into his boot.

Sticking his head out of Scott’s hut, he tries to make out the situation as he watches villagers rushing by, Wolfe and humans alike, as the flames burn what looks like the huts on the edges of the clearing.

Stiles sees Cora dart by, a small child in her arms, almost too fast for him to see, and gives chase, hoping to catch up and find out how to help, what he can do.

Right now the village seems have dissolved into chaos and Stiles is suddenly aware that more than a fire is happening here.

They’re under attack.

Cursing under his breath, Stiles scrambles towards the center of the village. His brain is frantically trying to coordinate. Ok, so, the Hales seem like they would have contingencies for shit like this.

Just, _think_ , Stilinski.

Stiles’ head whips around to the Hall. Of course! The biggest, most defensible building with only one visible entrance or exit. Everyone will be holed up in the Hall and most likely in need of back up to protect the non-combatants. Stiles thinks of all of those children that both he and Derek are so concerned about.

He sets his shoulders and begins to run straight towards the Hall.

The scene when he arrives is marginally reassuring.   Derek and Peter are outside the Hall doors, giving orders to the other Wolves. Stiles stumbles to a stop in front of them and Derek grunts in greeting, he looks stressed and harassed. Derek immediately takes notes of the Winchester on Stiles’ hip.

“Stiles, how’s your marksmanship?”

Stiles nods once, “Excellent. Night vision also 20/20 with about a 70-foot accuracy range, still air tonight.” He gives his report like he’s used to giving to his dad on patrol.

Stiles’ dad is still in the business of protecting people, must be where Stiles got it.

Derek nods back, “Peter, take Stiles up to the roof and hide him well.” Derek turns to Stiles and levels him with a very stern look. “Keep your head down and do _not_ draw attention to yourself. Just do your best to provide cover.”

Stiles nods in agreement and follows a characteristically silent Peter into the Hall and up the back steps. They climb two flights and then take an access staircase to the roof.

Peter turns to glance nonchalantly at Stiles as he picks a spot with good visibility and starts to look for a spot to make a sniper’s hide: “Keep your head down. Seems like I’d have to answer to both of my nephews if you get hurt.”

Stiles swallows hard and tries to tamp down his nerves. He’s a crack shot at target practice, but other than when Scott got attacked and last night, he’s never really been in active combat.

Peter practically shoves Stiles behind an old ventilation unit. “Crouch here, shoot only when you’re _sure_ of your shot and try to keep your heart rate down.”

Peter stares at him intensely for like, half a minute before he abruptly turns and begins to stalk back towards the roof exit.

Stiles nods at Peter’s retreating back, “Creeper.” He grumbles, not caring if Peter hears him.

Looking down at the village that his two-and-a-half-story height advantage gives him, Stiles can see where the Lycans have breached the tall fence and where the majority of their forces are focused.

Stiles can make out Derek’s shoulders and hair from a distance, right up in the middle of the brawl, claws flying and mouth open in growls he can’t hear from this distance.

Stiles keeps an eye on the melee, taking expert shots whenever a Lycan manages to break the line. All the while he keeps an eye out for Scott, Lydia’s hair and Isaac’s height and golden curls.

He doesn’t spot any of them, but manages to make an excellent shot in order to assist Peter with a fearsome-looking bald Lycan with a scar bisecting his face. Now he has a matching set across his throat, courtesy of their friendly neighborhood Uncle Munster.

Stiles loses track of time, couldn’t recount how many shots he fires, how many times he reloads the Winchester.

He’s aware of nothing else but the adrenaline and focus of the fight, his actions boiling down to sighting, breathing deep and pulling the trigger.

He moves entirely unconsciously and keeps scanning the ground for his friends.

He stops thinking.

Everything seems to bleed together; a ballet of loading, sighting, holding his breath and easing pressure on the trigger.

Precise little pops of death, all on automatic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> personal shit to follow...
> 
> PLAYLISTUPDATES:  
> 1\. Never Let Me Go - Florence + The Machine  
> 2\. Reminder - Moderat  
> 3\. Ethereal - Moderat  
> 4\. Eating Hooks - Moderat  
> 5\. Your Heart Sounds Like - Fhin  
> 6\. Too Late to Change the Past - Pollyn  
> 7\. Love Me In Whatever Way - James Blake  
> 8\. For Even My Mother Won't Find Me There - Amane & Jamie Isaac  
> 9\. Red - XXYYXX  
> 10\. Just Slow Down - Godblesscomputers  
> 11\. Blue Train Lines - Mount Kimbie (!!!)
> 
> Linkz: https://open.spotify.com/user/lirael_yvaine/playlist/44kA02h7Vg9v4fUv99My87
> 
> anyone is welcome to follow me on spotify (or just listen to my musics; all my playlists are public) @lirael_yvaine.


	10. you're in everything i see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're all the cat's meow, the bee's knees. we're almost up on my completed material. but hell, i'm feeling reckless and too old and also too young. 
> 
> my ennui is dialed up to 11--so please, just enjoy another chapter, why don't you.

Finally, it seems that there are no more hostiles on the ground, and that the remaining Wolves have started to check their wounded.

Stiles sighs hard, and holsters his Winchester, not sure if he should leave his post himself or wait for someone to come and collect him.

His decision is made for him when the door to the roof bangs open. Stiles has his pistol in hand faster than he can recall moving only to stop short at the startled look on Scott’s face.

“Shit, sorry Scott. Where were you?” Stiles lets out a weak chuckle as he tucks the Winchester into his belt.

“I was helping in the bunker, keeping the kids from panicking. Derek says you really helped out up here.” Scott bundles him in a hug and thumps him on the back for good measure.

Stiles accepts the hug because he’s a total hug slut, but shrugs off the compliment, “Training kicked in. I wanted to help protect everyone.”

“I understand.” Scott nods in approval. “Come on, Talia wants to see everyone for a meeting before we head back to bunk for the night.”

Stiles nods and follows Scott back down the steps and through the back entrance to the Hall’s main meeting room, where he first met the Hales.

Stiles stumbles when he enters, weary and tired, but jittery with excess adrenaline that his body is having trouble figuring out what to do with after the activity has ended.

The Hales are standing in a semi-circle behind the desk, sheltered by the row of bookcases behind them.

Derek looks up at them as they approach and nods in respect in Stiles’ direction.

Stiles tries to keep the beaming smile off of his face.

Ah, the ol’ patented Stilinski charm, just simply wear them down until they’re forced to like you. Works every time.

Talia is speaking in hushed, tense tones to Derek and Peter. Derek bends down to whisper in her ear as soon as Stiles and Scott are near enough to their little group.

Talia turns to greet them, a warm smile on her face with her arms spread wide. “Stiles, I want to personally thank you for helping to defend my pack and my family. I’m more grateful than I can put into words.”

Stiles shakes his head in denial, but accepts Talia’s hug of gratitude gladly. He’s always loved a good Mom Hug, especially since he hasn’t had one since Mrs. McCall left the Beacon Hills settlement.

He practically melts into her warm, warm arms, the adrenaline finally having some place to go, seemingly coursing from his body, leaving a pacifying, lazy feeling spreading through his chest and limbs.

When he starts to part from the Hale Alpha, he feels a bit light headed and Talia wasn’t unaffected as well if her big, bushy-tailed grin is anything to go by.

“Holy shit, Lia!” Peter laughs incredulously, looking almost as giddy as his elder sister. “I haven’t seen you accidentally transfer energies in a long time.”

Talia has the grace to look embarrassed and shifts Stiles in her arms so she can get a better look at him.

Right, they hugged and it was great. Everything Stiles imagined a genuine hug from TaliaAlphaMom would feel like.

And now the hug was over, but Stiles is still cuddled up with the Pack Alpha like he’s an overgrown cub… and for once, he can’t bring himself to care. “Mama Hale,” he murmurs and tries to snuggle further into her shoulder.

Talia giggles and cradles Stiles to her. “I apologize, Stiles. Tonight has been a singularly stressful event, I wasn’t paying attention to your emotional state before I gave physical contact.”

“S’cool Mamahale,” Stiles exhales lazily and tries to shrug as best he can while still receiving a semi-hug slash lounging on the Pack Alpha.

Scott is grinning at him fondly, Peter is still snickering to himself and taking what looks like pictures, but Stiles can’t be sure. The edges of his vision are a comforting, warm goldeny-glowy haze of sorts right now.

Derek is glowering, but Stiles recognizes that as his default facial expression by now, or maybe Derek is not too fond of other people touching his mommy.

Stiles can understand that, and so he reluctantly allows himself to be passed off to Scott as Talia lets him go with one more, firm squeeze.

*** *** ***

Stiles wakes up in the morning, completely baffled as to how the night had ended. 

He has vague recollections of a massive amount of energy rushing through him after the battle, but can’t seem to remember what happened.

He swings his legs over the cot and looks around the shanty, yet he doesn’t seem to have any company.

Stiles hangs his head and takes a couple of minutes to come back online.

Suddenly he remembers his impromptu cuddle session with the graceful and powerful Talia Hale and feels his face go hot and tight from the supreme blush he is sporting.

At least he had proven his mettle as a warrior before managing to lose all of the face he could possibly ever have.

Shrugging, because, when doesn’t he embarrass himself too much to even contemplate existence? Stiles decides that today, he needs to figure out the shower situation, probably yesterday, but now it’s an immediate and dire concern.

Especially with all the running and sweating that Stiles did last night, not to mention all of the smoke and fire that he had been doing his running and sweating in.

He makes his way to the Main Hall to see if he can find his friends and hopefully dissuade them of this habit of theirs to faff off without so much as leaving him a note on their whereabouts.

When he enters the Hall, it surprises him to see Scott at a table with Lydia instead of handing out coffee or serving a dish.

He remarks on as much when he ambles over with his own bowl of porridge, served to him by an adorably smiling Wolfe who couldn’t be more than eight. He makes especially sure to compliment her pigtails and receives a bright grin in return.

“I was going to help, but apparently, I’ve been on the roster every day for the past month. I don’t remember that.” Scott pouts into his bowl of porridge like maybe _it_ was responsible for him not being able to work.

Stiles does a poor job stifling his giggles and begins eating. “Hey, Lydia?”

Lydia barely pauses in her determined consumption of her bowl of porridge, but gives him an affirmative grunt.

“Someone’s been spending too much time with a Hale,” he mutters to himself and hears Scott snort a laugh. Oops, guess who momentarily forgot about Lycan hearing.

Ten points from Gryffindor.

Stiles smothers his smile in another heaping mouthful of admittedly delicious porridge and waits until he has at least half of it down before he aims his next question at Lydia.

“Do you know where I could find Cora? I wanted to ask about the shower sitch and I would rather gouge out my own eyeballs than ask Derek or Peter.”

“Especially after last night!” Scotts guffaws out.

Lydia’s head whips up, her complete focus on Scott – porridge completely forgotten, pretty fickle sis.

“Talia –“ Scott stops speaking immediately when he turns and sees the expression on Stiles’ face.

It’s already too late.

She’s heard the beginnings and much like a Hell Hound (also a popular Brimstone Witch Familiar), or a shark scenting blood in the water, she will not let it go until she knows what she wants.

Lydia raises an eyebrow in aggressive intrigue, by the looks of the angle.

Stiles inadvertently escalates the situation by blushing brightly, a habit he has stopped hoping he will grow out of and just curses his fate over.

Lydia’s eyebrow is joined by her smug smirk – an expression Stiles has been familiar with his whole fuckin’ _life_ , it feels like – and one that Scott must expressly remember because he’s already laughing into his breakfast now.

Stiles gallantly tries to ignore Lydia and continue on with his delicious breakfast, thank you very much, but much like the impending doom prophesized by her desire to learn of his secret, this is the moment that none other than Peter Hale decides to grace them with his presence.

Stiles silently curses his existence, his mother’s father, the stars, his shoes, _everything_ , as Peter opens his horrendous mouth and out pour the Gates of Hell ™:

“Stiles! Good to see you up and about so early after you tried to maul Talia into submission with needy pup cuddles.” Peter’s face is a cruel grin that one can guess is not an unusual expression for him – if one cared enough about his nasty existence to ponder anything about him.

Stiles shrugs and tries to play it off, but finds that he doesn’t really have much to say.

“The whole thing was weird, it was kind of like being mystically high in a warm honey river… It was –” here he stops and takes in the faces of his audience. Peter looks sort of smug, Lydia looks confused and also not so smug anymore, and Scott just looks sad.

Stiles clears his throat and finishes what has become a disproportionately uncomfortable explanation lamely, “Weird. It was just weird. I’ll go apologize to Talia later.”

Peter shrugs, his cruel smirk still in place and turns to walk away. “If Derek will leave you alone with her.”

He’s barely out of earshot before Lydia is placing a soft hand on his arm, “What happened last night? Everyone has been talking about how you played sniper, but what’s all this stuff with Talia?”

Stiles smiles weakly, “Where were you last night? When I woke and the fires were spreading, I couldn’t find you.”

Lydia shakes her head in denial; “I went to the Hall to help prepare for a siege, with Cora and a bunch of others. But that’s not what we need to talk about Stiles, are you okay?”

She stops and casts a small look at Scott, that of course the Wolfe doesn’t notice as he continues to eat his porridge.

“Do we need to go?” she whispers, or rather mouths, to him.

Stiles feels his chest constrict. He shakes his head at her, but places his hand over hers and squeezes to show his appreciation.

Stiles and Lydia had grown close as pigs in a blanket after Scott’s… departure, and he is grateful that she would check with him, even if he wants to leave Scott behind this time.

“I did play sniper, I don’t remember a lot of it, actually. I just kept shooting, I knew I was protecting innocents down below and I took every shot clean and precise as I could. Training kicking in and adrenaline handled the fine motor and it was over before I knew it.”

Stiles looks down at his hands, expecting them to be shaking with the memory of all of the lives he had helped take, or taken himself last night, but he finds them as steady as his voice.

Before he can contemplate whether or not that should bother him, he presses on; “After Scott came to get me from the roof, we had to go and debrief with Talia. I was shaking with extra energy, completely hyped up. And when she hugged me, to thank me…”

Here Stiles slows down and muses it over again.

“It was like I had stuck my finger in a socket, I was definitely shocked – really like, jolted, y’know? But then at the same time, it didn’t hurt at all and all of a sudden I was so calm and comfy and happy and wanted to be _held_ some more. She felt a lot like family, because you guys are my family, and they’re Scott’s pack… I felt really safe.”

Stiles’ face predictably heats up but he ignores it now, “It was so strange, I was like, ‘ahhh please stop hugging this practical stranger now please’ and I was totally going to, at like, _any minute_ … just not that one.”

Both he and Lydia laugh softly and he stops feeling so embarrassed about it.

“It was a Mom Hug,” Lydia explains for him and Stiles nods as Scott stops eating on his right and listens to their conversation more closely.

“It’s ok, I’ll come with you to apologize if you want?” Lydia offers, but Stiles shakes his head. If Derek is going to be there playing bodyguard, then he wants as few witnesses as possible. Their tentative truce aside, Stiles isn’t sure that Derek won’t say or do anything odd or not.

And there’s always the chance that Isaac might be there and Stiles… just… well, Isaac. He’s so adorable, with his big blues eyes and those sandy gilded curls and those pouting lips of his.

Stiles feels his heart give a stupid flipping stop and stutter number whenever the tall, lithe Wolfe smiles at him and the possibility of running into him again with Derek glowering over one shoulder and Lydia hovering over the other might make him break out in hives.

Full Maternal Instincts still activated, Lydia strokes his arm again and then pulls him sideways on the bench into a hug. Stiles presses his face into her auburn hair and inhales the fresh scent of strawberries?

He pulls away and stares at her reproachfully.

“J’accuse!” he cries dramatically, causing several heads to turn in their direction, but the rumble of normal breakfast time chatter doesn’t dim or show any signs of distress.

Lydia raises her patented eyebrow in concern and bafflement. “What, exactly, am I being accused of?”

Stiles points a wary finger at her, as fingers pointed in Lydia’s direction tend to suffer from damage every now and again if you’re careless, and he _really_ wants a shower.

"The shower sitch! You of the fresh berry fields are _definitely_ in the know of how to clean thyself, so please, share the knowledge!”

Scotts barks out a laugh and they both turn to face him.

“Oh my Goddess, you’re both still exactly the same.”

Stiles grins and Lydia smiles serenely and shrugs.

"Come on, Stiles. I’ll take you to the showers.” Scott’s up from the table, bussing both of their dishes and ready to go just as Stiles is done messing around with Lydia.

He remembers well from their school days, apparently.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so here's the personal details dump:  
> you're all so wonderful. i'm such an absolute and total mess.
> 
> RL has taken a toll these past 10~ months. while i was able to find another job, my aunt, who had been diagnosed with cancer had her condition worsen. during her fight, i was working back-to-back shifts full-time and had no drive and dedication to work on any of my crafts. as she went into hospice, i re-applied to school and have been accepted into the graduate program at a prestigious University in the area starting in the spring, so there's that. we then lost my aunt on 7/9/17. 
> 
> it's been really hard. i've been looking into other employment options to have more time to dedicate to classwork come January. there's also been some natural disasters and personal sickness throwing everything all out of whack. most recently, and most jarring, i also had an ex that i was unfortunately in a state of flux with die of an overdose on 9/8/17. 
> 
> everything feels like a whole lot lately. while this story was something on the bottom of my to-do list before, now i can absolutely say, that as much as i love fandom and need an escape and want to enhance and hone my writing skills, there can be absolutely no further guarantees made as to the pace of updates going forward.
> 
> i want to thank everyone for your kind words, support, subscriptions and comments. you're all so beautiful. i'd ask everyone to bear with me and just click subscribe if you truly like the sotry so you can get Stisaac goodness whenever i can get to making updates. i know what it's like to love a character/ship hardxxxcore. <3
> 
> PLAYLISTUPDATES:  
> 1\. Never Let Me Go - Florence + The Machine  
> 2\. Reminder - Moderat  
> 3\. Ethereal - Moderat  
> 4\. Eating Hooks - Moderat  
> 5\. Your Heart Sounds Like - Fhin  
> 6\. Too Late to Change the Past - Pollyn  
> 7\. Love Me In Whatever Way - James Blake  
> 8\. For Even My Mother Won't Find Me There - Amane & Jamie Isaac  
> 9\. Red - XXYYXX  
> 10\. Just Slow Down - Godblesscomputers  
> 11\. Blue Train Lines - Mount Kimbie  
> 12\. See - Tycho ft. Beacon
> 
> Linkz: https://open.spotify.com/user/lirael_yvaine/playlist/44kA02h7Vg9v4fUv99My87
> 
> anyone is welcome to follow me on spotify (or just listen to my musics; all my playlists are public) @lirael_yvaine.


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